


Before Satisfied

by shaniceisfalling



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Hamilton - Miranda (Broadway Cast) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-25 05:35:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12524156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaniceisfalling/pseuds/shaniceisfalling
Summary: There are things Laurens can no longer leave unsaid.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. All characters belong to their respective owners and any alterations that I've made to the plot do not reflect the intentions or actions of the creator(s).

I walk onto the elevated stage, trying to keep a straight face. I see him in the crowd, front and center as always. Alexander Hamilton. The groom. My best friend. My so much more.

His gorgeous bride, a Schuyler sister at that, is beside him, hanging off his arm as though they were attached at the hip. I try not to think about how tonight they will be, in a way him and I never were and never will be.

My own words clumsily spoken to Lafayette and Hercules echo in my mind. _‘Cause if the tomcat can get married, there’s hope for our ass after all._

I chuckle under my breath, fighting the burning in my eyes. I should’ve known the second we walked into that ball that this would be how it ended. It was a fool’s dream, thinking it could just be us and the guys and the beer and the dreams forever and ever and nothing else. But it can’t just be… us, _the gang_ , never moving or growing up or changing. With all of these beautiful women around, how could I possibly think that I could be the only one who noticed him?

Eliza whispers something in his ear and he laughs. His eyes connect with mine for a moment. I look away. “Alright, alright. That's what I'm talkin' about!” I cheer towards the crowd.

They go wild, as if they weren’t already.

I look to the side, ready to give up the spotlight as quickly as I got it. I can’t do this anymore. “Now everyone give it up for the maid of honor, Angelica Schuyler!” I cheer again and gesture towards the woman.

Then I see it.

Behind her smile, and the look of joy and happiness painted all over her face, her eyes have the same look as my own. I’m not sure if there’s even a word for it. Misery. Disappointment. Agony. Pain, and then the sickening happiness for _them_ despite it all. None of those words quite do it justice.

She smiles gently towards me, and we share something before she exclaims, “A toast to the groom!”

The crowd echoes her words. _To the groom! To the groom. To the groom..._

 

**_Rewind to Directly Before the Wedding_ **

 

“So this is it. The big… Well you know.” I smile beside him as he adjusts his coat for the millionth time. He looks perfect. I told him that already. “It’s fine Hamilton. Quit messing with it.” But he won’t believe me. He wants to be perfect, for her. He already is.

I drink in the look of him from the corner of my eyes. That messy hair, pulled carelessly back into a low tie. Those shoulders. That waist. That smile. God, that smile. His entire disposition. His voice. His laugh. His…

He turns to me.

Those eyes.

After today, I can’t even entertain the notion of those things being mine anymore. All of him will belong to her, and I’ll be reminded of that fact every day.

He smiles and tilts his head a bit. “Come on, you really think this is the end of all my freedom?”

I nod. “Yeah, and you better start thinking that, too. You know what comes after this. Kids. A ranch.”

He scoffs. “I’m not going to become a farmer, Laurens.”

I laugh with him. “You know what I mean.”

“I don’t, actually,” he grins. “I don’t agree at all. I think things will be like they’ve always been, but better. I’ll still be with you guys. I just have a little more incentive at home now.”

Something shifts in me. I keep a straight face, still grinning. “I bet. A girl like Eliza… I’m happy for you, Hamilton. I really am.”

The smile falls from his face, slowly. “Well then why do you look like that?”

I don’t drop the facade. I keep my smile on my face, but I look away quickly, because I don’t know how long I can keep it up. I take another shot of the glass in my hand. Part of me says just leave now, meet him outside or something so I can pull myself together before this starts.

The other part of me can’t help myself. The other part of me needs to know. “You remember the first day we met? With Burr and the guys, I mean.”

“Of course, we got so wasted that night,” he laughs. “Kind of like you’re doing right now.” He reaches for the glass, and I let him take it, albeit reluctantly. I’m just not in the mood to resist him right now. I never am.

I’d die for him. God, I love him so much. Why am I like this?

He puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes. He’s so close. “Laurens—”

“I was talking about before that part,” I smile down at my feet. “I mean, the first moment we met and you told all of us who you were. You were just going on and on and—”

“I know, I know. I never shut up,” he grumbles, his cheeks turning red. “What’s your point?”

I hold onto his arm, the one that’s still holding mine. “I wasn’t trying to make fun of you. You know I could listen to you for hours.”

“Now _that_ we all know.”

I roll my eyes. Smug as ever I see.

He squeezes my shoulder again, gently. “What are you trying to say Laurens?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. I just… I think about that day every day. What you told us. What you told me. I was ready to go to war for... I mean, _with_ you, right then and there. You had me hanging off every word. Do you remember what you said?”

He shakes his head. “I said a lot of things, Laurens, but I feel like you’re talking about something very specific.”

I nod, still unable to look at him straight. “I am. There was one thing you said and I just…” I want him to remember, dammit. I want him to say it again. “Do you remember it?”

“Maybe if you said it?”

I say nothing. It means nothing now if he can’t remember it himself. It was probably just something he said in the spur of the moment like he always does.

“Laurens, what’s wrong with you?” He puts both hands on my shoulders and leans down so he’s staring into my eyes. He shakes me a little. “It’s my wedding. My once in a lifetime wedding, and you’re being so… strange today.” He laughs a bit. “I don’t know what you’re getting on about, but maybe it could wait—”

Staring into those eyes, his eyes, I do the unthinkable. I shove my lips against his and pull him as close to me as possible. I try to remember everything about him in this moment—this one fleeting moment—the feel of his lips, his skin, his body, before he rips me off of him.

“Laurens, what the hell are you doing?”

I just stand there panting with both of my arms held out before me, in his grasp.

He’s staring at me like I’ve lost my mind. “You’re wasted. I told you not to—”

“I’m not drunk,” I say. I could play this off as a spell of alcohol like the time before, but I can’t. Not anymore. It’s too late. I can’t lie anymore. It hurts too much.

I look up at him and there’s something in my eyes that makes him pull his hands away from me, slowly.

“I like you… a lot, actually.” I say just above a whisper.

“...I’m sorry?”

“ _Laurens, I like you a lot._ That’s what you said to me that day.”

He takes a step back. “Why are you saying this?”

I shrug. “Because it’s the truth.”

“You know what I mean. Why are you saying this _now_?” he asks.

It’s my turn to laugh. “Because there’s no more time to say it, Hamilton. You’re getting married.”

“Well what are you trying to say?”

I give him a look. “I think you know that already.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t.”

I ball my hands into fists at my side. Punch me. Beat my ass. Spit on me. Talk shit about me, okay. Maybe even break our friendship if he sees fit to do so. These are all outcomes I’ve prepared myself for, but the one thing I won’t tolerate is him acting oblivious. I won’t be made out to be a fool. “Please don’t say that, Alexander. Don’t play dumb. That won’t help anything.”

“I’m not playing dumb.”

“Yes you are, and it’s just making it worse.” I fight the burning in my eyes. “There’s no way you couldn’t know.”

“How could I?” He raises his voice.

I raise mine too. “The way I look at you. Don’t tell me it’s the same as Lafayette and Mulligan.”

“I’m not looking at any of you hard enough to tell something like that.”

“Still,” I say. “You should’ve known. It’s so obvious. I make it so obvious. I can’t help it.”

He throws his hands up and nearly screams at me, “What does it matter now, Laurens? You’re my _best man_. It’s my _wedding day_. What do you want me to say? What do you think you’ll get out of saying this now?”

“I want you to say something,” I say looking into his eyes, and then I look down at my feet. “I want you to tell me how you feel.”

He nods. “Fine. Let’s go. I don’t want to be late and keep her waiting.” He heads towards the door.

“That’s all you have to say to me?”

“Yes.”

“Hamilton.”

“Seriously, Laurens. Please, just…” he puts his hand up as if to silence me.

I catch up to his retreating figure and do the only thing I can think to do to keep him here, with me, now. I wrap my arms around him from behind and hold on. I bury my face in his coat that he adjusted a million times. I breathe in his scent for what will certainly be the first and the last time, this close. “ _Please_.”

I don’t know what I’m pleading for. Time. A response. Reciprocation. I don’t know, but he doesn’t push me away.

He doesn’t say anything either. He just stands there, stock still against me. Then he says the words I thought I might hear, but always hoped I never would, “It’s disgusting.”

My heart drops.

He continues. “Laurens, it’s wrong. To like another man like this... What’s wrong with you?”

If it’s possible to feel my own heart break, I just did. The burning in my eyes threatens to spill. I’m disgusting to him. It’s wrong to him, unnatural. I thought… I pull away.

Or at least I try to. He doesn’t allow it.

He hold me against him, holding onto my arms that were already around him. He holds me just where I am against him. He keeps me there, in the warmth of him. In the heat of him. I don’t understand.

He runs his fingers along the exposed skin of my forearms, gently. Rhythmically. Intimately. “...What’s wrong with _me_?” He adds, and turns around.

Now my arms are wrapped around him from the front, and he holds me too, flush against him. He leans down and kisses me in a completely different manner than what I did to him. It’s slow. Patient. Steady. He takes his time doing it in a way he doesn’t take his time doing anything else.

Then all too soon he pulls away.

He holds my face in his hand, rubbing a thumb against my damp cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

I shake my head. “I didn’t know how.”

He runs his free hand over my shoulder, down my spine, against my hip. He runs his fingers through my hair, the loose parts of it that aren’t tied back. He touches my lips, just brushes over it slightly, and closes his eyes. “It’s too late.”

“I know, but—”

“Np. It’s too late to stop this, and even then, even if I could… we could… you understand, right? this just can’t end any other way.”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. It comes out as a quiet sigh of disappointment. Of longing unfulfilled. Of something left dissatisfied. “I know.”

He pulls away from me, untangling our bodies, and walks to the door. “I don’t like you a lot, Laurens. I love you. You know that don’t you?”

I feel something wet and warm slide down my face. Just one streak, so small someone might not even notice it. I wipe it away instantly, and just like that, it’s gone. “I love you too Hamilton. I always will.”

“I’ll meet you out there then, soon?” He asks without looking at me.

“Yeah.” I clear my throat, hearing my own voice crack. Did he hear it? Please, tell me he didn’t. “I just need a minute.”


	2. During Stay Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurens won't allow Hamilton to pretend like he doesn't know. He has to. Laurens told him himself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. All characters belong to their respective owners and any alterations that I've made to the plot do not reflect the intentions or actions of the creator(s).
> 
> Also, this chapter is dedicated to Distinguishedrunawaymiracle! Thank you so much for your kind comment. It means a lot. I hope you enjoy ^^

“Here. How does this sound?” I hand the stack of papers to Hamilton across the table. I stare at him as his eyes scan the sheet, once, twice.

“It’s good, Laurens.” He hands it back and starts scribbling on his own paper again.

“Just good?”

He raises an eyebrow. He sets his quill down and looks at me. “It’s _great_ Laurens, just like the others, but I doubt you’ll believe me.”

I roll my eyes.

He gives me a look and then takes the papers from me again. He points at a line just after the start of the second paragraph. “The whole thing is great, but this part right here. This part is amazing. You can really hear the passion behind your words.”

I smile and look down, trying to not stare at his hands. His wrist. The folds of his coat sleeve. “I’d hardly call it passion. More like common sense. It’s the only logical conclusion that could be drawn from the declaration.”

“I understand, but I have to tell you...” He gestures towards the other stacks scattered around me. “The rate at which you’re writing these is definitely… vigorous. Each essay is amazing, thorough, precise, damning even, so I think you can cut yourself some slack.”

I frown. “You think I’ve said too much?”

“No, of course not. I just think you’ve written enough to not be so hard on yourself.”

I scoff. “This coming from you? You of all people should know what it’s like to have something you need to say. I’ll say it a million times over if that’s what it takes to get these people to understand.”

I grab some more papers and dip my quill in the ink. I nearly spill it in the process from my forcefulness. I curse under my breath and start writing. “It’s _wrong_ , Hamilton. It bothers me so much in a way I can’t stop thinking about, because it doesn’t even make sense. If this ‘free’ nation continues to build itself on the backs of slaves it will crumble in hypocrisy.” I scribble furiously on the paper, trying to capture the words flying through my head faster than my fingers can cover the page.

His hand stops me. He reaches over and gently squeezes my clenched fist. “Look at me, Laurens.”

Our eyes connect, and I can’t look away.

“You’re right, Laurens. You don’t have to prove that to anyone, okay?”

I almost don’t hear him over the pounding in my chest. I nod.

He dips his quill in the ink again and continues writing.

I reach out and put my hand over his, squeezing gently like he did to me. “You’re right too, Alexander.”

He sighs. “No. Charles Lee is apparently.”

I shake my head. “You’re a far better choice. Washington will see that.”

“I doubt it. I ask him everyday to entrust me with something. Anything of merit. He dismisses me like a child and leaves me at the mercy of that…” He clenches his teeth. “I thought I was his right hand man. Now I see I’m just his errand boy.”

That’s not true. “Who’s stealing the contraband to provide for his troops?” I ask.

Hamilton stares at me, tight-jawed. Eyes narrowed. “Where are you going with this?”

“ _We_ are,” I say. “And who’s cutting off the supply lines to weaken the enemy forces?”

“...We are,” he says slowly.

I nod. “And who’s manning his correspondences almost single-handedly?”

“ _Shh_ ,” he looks left, right. He leans closer. “I told you that in confidence, Laurens.”

I smile. “ _You_ are, and you’re doing it all while ‘Charles Lee’ isn’t doing shit for the troops, the country, or Washington himself. The General will have no choice but to see that eventually, and when that day comes, _soon_ , you’ll be where you need to be.”

Hamilton can’t help the smirk growing on his face. “I suppose.”

“I know it,” I pull my hand away, reluctantly, and go back to my papers. I don’t tell him that I hope Washington never promotes him. Never gives him a battalion or any kind of command. I want Hamilton where he’s safest. I want Hamilton to stay alive.

“You’re too good to me, Laurens. I feel better already.”

I pause. I tighten my grip on the quill and keep writing. He’s too cruel to say things like that to me knowing what he does.

###

“Attack!”

“Retreat!”

“ _Attack!_ ” I call out.

“Retreat!” Lafayette says in his ‘Charles Lee’ voice.

“ _Guys_ ,”  Hamilton warns through a fit of laughter. “Stop before someone hears us.”

“What? It’s true. We’re just recounting the day’s events,” I grin.

“Come on, Hamilton,” Lafayette throws his arm around his shoulder. “What will the papers say? Tell us.”

“No. I can’t,” Hamilton waves him off.

We urge him until he finally spits it out. “ _Charles Lee was left without a pot to piss in_.”

“Ouiii!” Lafayette cheers.

I take another shot, trying not to choke from the sting. Funny how there’s always alcohol no matter how little we have in the barracks. A war front, a place where you can starve and drink and die in peace.

“ _Lafayette takes the reigns_ ,” Hamilton goes on. He’s still grinning, but I can sense the underlying tone behind it.

“Oh, that’s even better,” Lafayette smiles. He doesn’t seem to notice the change in Hamilton’s voice. Thank God for language barriers.

I elbow Hamilton regardless. He flinches and looks at me. I give him a pointed look. This isn’t the time for his pride.

Suddenly, a group of people enter the small quarters. Three guesses who’s leading the way and letting all manners of shit fall from his mouth. Charles Lee. The three of us exchange a look and keep drinking.

“Washington cannot be left alone to his devices. He’s indecisive, from crisis to crisis,” Lee pisses and moans to the crowd.

Lafayette narrows his eyes. “Here we go.”

Honestly. Laf could say that again. “Maybe we should leave?” I ask.

“No, I want to hear what he has to say.” Hamilton stares at the man across the room.

“But will it lead to anything good is the question.” Lafayette mutters under his breath.

I nod. “Some things are better to just ignore.”

Hamilton doesn’t budge. “I’d rather hear what he has to say now versus through the ranks.”

And sure enough, Lee says exactly what he has to. “The best thing Washington can do for the revolution is turn n’ go back to plantin’ tobacco in Mount Vernon.”

Hamilton chokes on his shot.

Lafayette curses under his breath.

My mouth falls open. _Damn_.

###

I go to Hamilton’s chamber that night to see what happened with his talk with the general.

He tells me to come in. He’s sitting on his makeshift sleeping arrangements. It’s really just a blanket, if that, for any of us.

“What did Washington say?” I ask.

He shakes his head.

“You can’t be serious.” I sit beside him. “Did you tell him exactly what Lee said?”

“Of course I did, but he says we’re in the middle of a war. We don’t have time to deal with it.”

I cock my head back. “Oh fuck that.”

“Laurens.” He looks at me disapprovingly.

“I’m serious. The war is exactly _why_ it needs to be handled. Do you know how many people died because Lee was inexperienced and ruinous.”

Hamilton chuckles, sadly. “That’s exactly what I was thinking, but I don’t know anymore. I’m starting to think you had a point before when you said some things are better to just ignore.”

“Yes, but some things can’t be ignored, Hamilton.”

He looks at me, wide-eyed. “But you were the one who said—”

“I know what I said, but those were strong words from Lee. Someone ought to hold him to it.”

He frowns. “I can’t disobey direct orders.”

“Then I’ll do it,” I tell him. No hesitation. I’ll do it. Of course I will.

“What?” he looks so confused.

I don’t understand why. I curse him again for being so cruel to me, for pretending like he doesn’t know.

“It’s not your battle to fight, Laurens. I don’t understand why you’d risk your life like that for me?”

“Alexander,” I look into his eyes. I move closer to him, close enough that our shoulders touch. Things like this are all I live for these days with the blistering heat, the starvation, the death. He keeps my sanity and he pretends like he doesn’t know it. “You’re the closest friend I’ve got, and I…” I love you. I clench my teeth. I’ve already told him so there’s no point in saying it again. He’s feigned ignorance ever since that day of the wedding, and it’s succeeded in us being able to preserve the friendship we had like nothing had changed. But damn, I don’t want what we had. I want more. I curse myself for wanting more because I have such a great friend. He should be enough, without the things I dream about at night.

I look away and sigh. “You’re the closest friend I’ve got. I’d do anything for you. You know that.” I get up and head for the exit. I can’t stay here. I need to go… do anything but be here.

I’m nearly out when he calls out to me. “I have a wife, Laurens.”

I look back and he’s about to fall apart. He’s not smiling. He’s not smirking. He doesn’t even have a stoic expression on. He looks hurt and desperate And needy. He runs his fingers through his hair, what parts of it aren’t tied securely behind him. “I have a wife. I can't.”

“I know.”

He walks closer to me and I walk back in. We meet somewhere in the middle. He pulls me close to him, and this time he’s the one to kiss first. It’s not soft. It’s not slow. It’s not patient.

It’s rushed and furious and grasping for any bit of warmth and comfort, which is ironic considering the heat. Hamilton is a different kind of heat though, a different kind of fire. We fall to the sheets, and he whispers words in my ears. Not sweet nothings but objections.

“This is wrong. This bothers me.”

I tell him the truth. “I don’t know what to tell you.” I reach for him again. It hurts me to think of Eliza, but I’ll forgive myself someday if only this could last forever. Or maybe I’ll never forgive myself. I don’t care anymore. I just need him.

He shakes his head. “This is hypocrisy. How can you be okay with this when just the other day you—”

“It’s not my fault you decided to get married, Hamilton,” I shout. I surprise even myself. My eyes burn, but I keep going. Words I never knew I wanted to say yank themselves out of my throat. “It’s not our fault that we live in a world where we have to have wives in the first place. I can’t help this. I can’t be any other way but this. I love you. I can’t help loving you—”

He leans in, slowly. He hesitates and then kisses me.

I freeze. Then I melt into the warmth of him, and hold onto him for dear life. I run my fingers through his hair, pulling it the rest of the way from his restraints. It pools out, draping down and touching me. We do the unthinkable that night.

Tangled in bedsheets, bodies joined and sweating and shivering, Hamilton whispers to me. “Laurens, do not throw away your shot for me.”

“I won’t. I’ll win.”

###

We blame the night’s events on the heat, the hunger, and a man’s needs. The feigned ignorance once again maintains what’s left of our friendship. It doesn’t feel like a friendship anymore. There’s clearly more, even if we verbally pretend like there isn’t.

Hamilton continuously reminds me that the duel isn’t something I have to do. He tells me that I can still call this off right up until the moment of the battle, but I’m a man of my word; however tainted that word may be.

I said I would handle the situation, so I do in a place that’s high and dry before the eyes of all of my comrades.

It would be a cold day in hell before I lose to Lee, the so-called ex-general [wheeee! -_-]. I give Lee exactly what he _deserves_ just like I said I would.

After Hamilton gets the confirmation from Burr that Lee yields, I turn to Hamilton and smirk. “We won.”

He clasps my hand and grins. “Yeah.” He looks over my face, my sides, my body, checking me.

“I’m fine, Hamilton.”

He clears his throat and looks away. “I know, I just…”

For the first time in awhile I can honestly say, “I’m satisfied.” Only my heart wonders when I’ll get what I _deserve_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s the next part. It made me so happy to see that Laurens really said “I’m satisfied” in the actual song (Meet Me Inside). I was like, oh yeah, I’ve gotta use that.
> 
> I’m thinking there MIGHT (coughcoughprobablywill) be two more chapters to finish the story off. It's technically done, but I'd like to make it even more done if that makes sense.
> 
> If I write them, I’ll post them at the same time because they’ll be shorter than what I’ve given so far. I like where I think this story is going and how it will end. I’ll try to stay as close to the actual source material as possible, but let’s be honest, I'm not killing Laurens in my work. This precious boy ain’t gonna die by my hands. Oh hell no. We read fanfic for happiness, not tragic canon (coughcoughreality) bs. So don’t be alarmed or worried about that lol
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed. Shout out to Distinguishedrunawaymiracle, because without your comment, I probably wouldn't have written this anytime soon (if at all). So I particularly hope you enjoyed it ^^

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally intended to be a stand alone/one shot, but if anyone wants to read more, I’d be more than happy to write it because I see more places I could take this story. It doesn’t feel done yet. Not to me at least.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed :) Hamilton has slowly been taking over my life. I listen to it on a daily basis, and I haven’t even finished it yet (terrible, I know, but I just can’t bring myself to do it knowing there’s only doom and destruction left xD history class spoiled me already lol). My main pairing in the fandom is BurrHam, which I’ll probably make a fanfic for sometime in the future, but I can also go for WashHam and HerLaf just as easily. My love for HamLaur actually came pretty recently when I saw a Lams version of Congratulations randomly on Youtube. Surprisingly enough, it had never dawned on me to ship the two until then, but then I watched a few more videos and sure enough I got inspired to try my own fanfic and now here we are.
> 
> Lol, blame Youtube, I’m just an innocent bystander.


End file.
